


Unexpected Conclusions from Your Planned Prejudice

by Miss_Nightmare



Category: All Time Low, Blessthefall, Bring Me The Horizon, Pierce the Veil, Sleeping With Sirens, Twenty One Pilots, You Me At Six
Genre: Belliott, Blood Kink, Koli, M/M, kellic - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-04 00:14:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20461862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Nightmare/pseuds/Miss_Nightmare
Summary: "Oliver Sykes, you are being charged with the premeditated murder of Kellin Quinn on the night of November the fourth. How do you plead?""Not guilty," he replies, his tone detached and emotionless.





	1. The Trial

"The Superior Court of the State of California is now in session, you may be seated."

Oli Sykes sits behind a mahogany table, his heavily tattooed hands crossed in his lap. He stares unblinking at the man speaking before him, before his gaze shifts to the judge.

"Thank you Mr. Jones. Ladies and Gentlemen of the court, we are here today to review the case of the State of California verses Oliver Sykes. You will be presented information and evidence from both sides and expected to make a fair decision on his fate. Are both parties ready to proceed?"

"Yes, your honor."

The judge faces Oli, whom stands when prompted by his defense attorney. Oli's dressed to the nines in a well-tailored suit, which had once been his brother's years ago. Oli had worn it only twice before, once to his Grandmother's funeral, and once to Tom's wedding.

It still smells of freshly cut grass and violets; it's comforting.

"Oliver Sykes, you are being charged with the premeditated murder of Kellin Quinn on the night of November the fourth. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," he replies, his tone detached and emotionless. 

"You may be seated. Will the counselors please introduce yourself and make your opening statements."

A man with bright eyes and a wicked smile stands, his confidence spreading across the room like a wave. He smirks at Oli before speaking, and already Oli feels a sense of strong hatred towards his prosecutor. Not that it matters whether or not he likes him, as long as he does his job.

"My name is Alex Gaskarth and I will be representing the people of California today.

Your honor, ladies and gentlemen of the court, the man before you is a cold blooded killer. A jealous lover, whom couldn't stand to see another second of his ex-boyfriend with another, so he takes his life himself. I have brought forth all the evidence you will need to have it proven clearly to you today." Mr. Gaskarth gives a demeaning glance towards him, Oli reminds himself to stay calm.

"Thank you, Mr. Gaskarth. Defense?"

"My name is Jack Barakat, and I will be representing Oliver Sykes today.

The man before you is not a killer, not a jealous ex-boyfriend, but a victim himself! He took no part in the killing of Kellin Quinn, if anything he tried to stop it, but he was too late. This is nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He saw the last seconds of the murder, and the real killer knocked him out cold, only for him to reawaken soon before the police showed up. He still cared for his ex, and even attempted to save his life. Ladies and gentlemen, Oliver Sykes is an innocent man, and I intend to prove that to you today."

"Thank you, Mr. Barakat. Will the prosecution please proceed?" 

"Yes, your honor," Mr. Gaskarth says, turning to face the jury. "My first witness is the closest to Quinn, his boyfriend, Vic Fuentes."

Vic walks to the stand. Oli doesn't make eye contact with him.

"Do you solemnly swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth?" he is asked.

"Yes," Vic replies. His eyes are bloodshot and he's shaking somewhat.

"Mr. Fuentes, can you tell us what happened on the morning of November the fifth, twenty-eighteen?" Mr. Gaskarth is pacing as he questions him.

"I- I found him-" Vic stutters.

"No, start at the beginning," he prompts.

"Kellin and I - we worked together at a bank; Mondays and Wednesdays we have early shifts which start at four AM, to catch up on accounting and such." He tugs on his sleeves slightly, fidgeting in his seat.

"Go on."

"I had been texting him all night, you know," he says, color rising to his cheeks. He looks around the court, at the jury, then back at Mr. Gaskarth. "Flirty stuff, and he hadn't replied at all. I thought it was weird but I brushed it off as him being asleep or something."

"And what time was that? That you had been texting him with no response?"

"Around ten PM, I think? Anyways, I go to sleep and wake up to pick him up at his apartment - he carpools with me on Mondays and Wednesdays - or - he did," he coughs, eyes welling up with tears.

It's pathetic, Oli thinks to himself, scowling. He wishes Vic would just shut up already and get on with it. There was no need to drag it out longer than necessary. No need for all this dramatic shit.

Once Vic composes himself he continues. "I couldn't get in. I knocked on the door, shouted, knocked on the windows… Nothing worked. I was so scared-"

"What time was it then? When you arrived at his apartment?"

"Three forty-six AM," he replies quickly.

Mr. Gaskarth nods. "Thank you, please continue."

"I called the police, and they arrived probably twenty minutes later, during which I kept trying to get in his apartment or at least a response from the inside. Once the police showed up, they opened the door and-"

"And what, Mr. Fuentes?" Alex asks, standing directly in front of Vic, his hands on the counter.

"Blood was everywhere."

Blood had been on Oli's hands and the sheets. Hell, no one knew it, but it had been on his lips too. He had tasted the metallic on his tongue. He had kissed it again and again, until he was so intoxicated…

"Then a knife, there was a knife on the kitchen table, short," Vic explains, as two people holding boxes walk into the room. "There was a noise in the bedroom, and I walked there, expecting to find Kellin." He glares over at Oli. "But instead finding that bastard! That bastard right there, covered in his blood! You fucking son of a bitch!" he screams, making his way towards Oli. A cop rushes over to pull him back, but he gets close enough to spit at him: "You were covered in blood, your hands, your jeans, your fucking face! You just couldn't contain yourself, could you? Had to force yourself upon him one last god damn time!"

Oli doesn't even do so much as twitch during the whole scene, merely shifts his legs and stares at his shoes instead of his hands. If he looks at Vic, he's liable to crack his façade. 

Once the cop gets Vic calmed down and reseated, Mr. Gaskarth continues his case.

"Here are the samples of blood recovered from the scene, taken directly from the knife and Mr. Sykes' body after the crime," he says, gesturing to the vile held delicately in his hand. In his other hand, a bag containing a knife covered in blood. "Ms. Yan, can you please tell us what the results of the testing of this blood showed?"

"It showed as being a positive match to Kellin Quinn's blood," she replies.

"Thank you, that will be all."

"Mr. Fuentes, how long had you and Kellin been dating?"

"Three weeks," he replies, "Although we had been friends for a long time. Longer than Kellin knew Oli."

He just has to, doesn't he? He's going too far with this, making Oli hate him more and more with every word he utters. Has to compare what they had.

"We had a connection for years, but hadn't realized has special and what it was until recently. Kellin decided to be the one to initiate it, he had realized what he had with Oli was merely a manifestation of what he actually felt for me, but had thought he couldn't have since I was his best friend."

The lying bastard. Oli's nails are digging into his palms, it's all he can do to stop himself.

It's too fucking far.

"And did you know Mr. Sykes personally before this incident?"

"Yes, he worked with Kellin and I at the bank. He had come over to my apartment plenty of times. We weren't what I would consider friends, but merely acquaintances. I didn't ever care for him, though. I started to dislike him more once he dated Kellin, as I could see how terribly he treated him."

Oli's digging his nails too hard, he's bleeding now, he wipes the blood on his pants.

"Do you know why he and Kellin broke up?"

"Oli had been possessive, that had been clear as day to anyone that knew them. He never wanted Kellin to spend time with anyone but himself. Kellin told me he wasn't allowed to leave his sight at times. He began to realize that Oli was toxic and just - cut him off, coming to me for comfort during such a hard and confusing time."

Oli prays to God that he will have the strength to get through this without killing Vic, one murder trial was enough.

"What else did Oli do during their relationship?"

"As far as I know it was a very abusive, at least that is what Kellin had told me after they broke up. He told me how much he hated being around him, confessing that he was forced to have sex when he pleaded with him not to-"

"THAT'S A LIE!" Oli screams, standing. Mr. Barakat tugs his arm harshly.

"Stop it, Oli, you have to keep your composure," Mr. Barakat reminds him, patting his back.

"That's what Kellin told me, are you calling my dead boyfriend a liar? He also said you called him an ugly whore behind closed doors - is that a lie, too?"

Oli gets ready to fight, he's about to run towards him, Mr. Barakat is holding tight on his arm. "SHUT UP, YOU-"

"Order! Order!" the judge yells.

"Please, sit," Mr. Barakat whispers to Oli. Oli sighs, taking a deep breath and sitting down. He stares at the hardwood floor beneath his feet. He wonders exactly how many people have ever been in this sort of situation before. Dozens? Hundreds?

"Thank you, Vic, the prosecution has no further questions," Mr. Gaskarth says.

"Does the defense wish to cross-examine the witness?" the judge asks, turning his attention to Mr. Barakat, whom was already standing and facing Vic.

"Yes, your honor. Mr. Fuentes, do you have any eye witness accounts to verify your whereabouts at approximately ten PM on the night of the supposed murder?"

"Yes, my brother and several of his friends."

Mr. Barakat seems to disregard his answer, "You don't like Mr. Sykes, is that correct?"

"I - that's correct. I do not consider him a friend."

"Then is it logical for me to conclude that your accusations may be clouded by preemptive judgement?"

"I saw him in my boyfriend's apartment with blood on his hands, are you fucking kidding me?"

"But no body!" Mr. Barakat points out, facing the jury. "Mr. Fuentes, you would never believe him innocent, no matter the case! You are always going to shut him down, your thoughts are completely distorted by those of lust for Kellin-"

"It’s not lust, what I had for Kellin!" Vic cries, "It was love, a love that Oli could never have so he decided to take it, with his own filthy hands, and I hope he burns in hell for the rest of-"

"Order!" the judge warns.

Vic sits back down in his seat, straightens his tie.

"I have no further questions for the witness, your honor."

Mr. Gaskarth retakes his position in the middle of the room. "My next witness is Vic's brother, Mike Fuentes." 

A taller Fuentes makes his way to the stand, he has long lopsided hair and a nose ring. He sits down with a comfortable lean, as if in the position many times before.

"Do you, Mike Fuentes, swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"

"I do," he replies with dignity.

"Mr. Fuentes, how would you describe your relationship to the defendant?" Mr. Gaskarth asks, giving Oli a glance.

"Friends, I guess. I wouldn't really call him that, though. I just, knew him, you know? Hung out with him at least once a week. Him and Kellin."

"Did he ever act strange to you?"

"Isn't everyone a bit strange?" is his reply. It causes silent laughter to erupt in the jury and Mr. Gaskarth to lose his footing for a moment. 

"That's quite debatable. Now, where were you the night of the murder? From ten PM to three AM on November the fourth and fifth respectively?"

"At home playing video games with my man, Tony. He can confirm it if you want to make sure, I've got his number," he says, sliding an iPhone out of his pocket.

"No, that's quite alright. And where was your brother?"

"He was chilling in the guest bedroom. I don't know what he was doing, he had stayed the night at my place but I assumed he was just on his laptop or something."

"When did you find out that Kellin was dead?"

"When my brother called me Monday morning. He was sobbing and I could barely understand him, so I drove over to see him."

Mr. Gaskarth nods. "Did he say anything once you got there?"

"Told me that Kellin was dead and that Oli had killed him."

"Do you believe that?"

"Yes," he replies simply.

"Why is that?"

"Oli was jealous, I could always see it in his face. After Kellin and him broke up they still tried to be friends or whatever. Oli still hung out with us - but - it was different. He always had this look in his eye that made you feel uncomfortable. I didn't like the way he looked at my brother, I felt like he hated him."

"Did he ever say anything threating to either you, your brother, or Kellin?"

"No, Sir, not that I ever heard. He was mostly silent after the breakup."

"No further questions, your honor."

"Mr. Barakat, do you wish to cross-examine the witness?" the judge asks.

"Yes, I would, thank you," he says, shuffling his papers. "Mr. Fuentes, did it seem strange to you that your brother had already claimed that Oli had been the killer when there was no body recovered from the scene?"

"No, not given the circumstances."

Mr. Barakat seemed to be lost at that; expecting the brother to give a different answer all together. As if realizing he had dug himself a large hole and there was no getting out, he ended the questioning.

"Thank you, that will be all."

"Does the prosecution have any more evidence or witnesses to bring forth?"

"No, your honor," Mr. Gaskarth replies.

"Then the defense may state their case."

Mr. Barakat takes the floor.

"I want everyone in this room, just for this moment, to put themselves in Oli's shoes. Imagine you are in this same situation. He comes over to visit his friend at night, for this is not unusual for them. He comes in to see his friend being brutally murdered, and he does all he can to help save him, but is too late. The killer knocks him unconscious, leaving him on the bedroom bed and taking his friend's body with him. 

Vic happens to be the one to find him first before he's able to leave to get help himself, and he is framed as being the murderer. It's a classic case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time! To further complicate matters, Oliver suffers from extreme anxiety and depression, and I would like to call his therapist, Dr. Wentz, to the stand."

"Relevance!" Mr. Gaskarth shouts, slamming his hands onto the table.

"Overruled," Judge Franceschi says calmly. "Go on, Mr. Barakat."

Mr. Barakat smirks at Mr. Gaskarth and continues.

A short man with thick spectacles that don't go with his face sits at the stand; he looks sort of like a monkey.

"Dr. Wentz, how long have you been Mr. Sykes' therapist?"

"Approximately seven years."

"And in those seven years did he ever demonstrate to you violent thoughts or behaviors?"

"To himself, yes, to others, no."

Oli shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"What have you diagnosed him with?"

"Severe depression and anxiety," the doctor replies. "He is on depression medication, the dosage he's been on for four years now and it seems to have been working."

"Why did you diagnose him with those conditions?"

"I don't believe I'm at liberty to go into any further details with you," he states, making brief eye contact with Oli. "He never mentioned wanting to kill Kellin, if that's what you wanted to know. As far as I knew, they were close friends."

"Thank you, Doctor, that will be all-"

"I would like to cross-examine the witness," Mr. Gaskarth interrupts, his footsteps echoing throughout the room. "Dr. Wentz, in your extensive experience as a therapist, have you notice any sort of correlation to humans becoming violent over certain emotions, say - jealousy?"

"Well, yes. But I don't see how that has anything to do with our situation at hand-"

"And could that not, hypothetically, become even more present in a patient with multiple mental illnesses already?"

"It's possible, but I don't-"

"That is all, thank you," Mr. Gaskarth says firmly.

Dr. Wentz steps down.

"Does this conclude the case for the defense?" the judge asks.

"Yes, sir."

Oli could hardly believe what little evidence and support his defense attorney had managed to come up with. He's never heard a more pathetic case in his life - had he cared more he would've tried to tell him, tug on his sleeve maybe and insist that he needs to fuckin' do more or else we're going to lose the case, but it didn't matter. He doesn't care - he's watching this play out like a bad movie.

The reality of it sinks in like blood on white sheets, and he begins to question his motives to begin with.

Why?

Kellin, that's why.

"Very well, will the consuls please give their closing arguments."

Unfortunately, the defense goes first. Oli can't bare to watch, so he puts his head in his hands as he listens, listens to the fragile case that is supposed to be his alibi. He could've been a better attorney for himself than this fool.

"What kind of system would even consider for a moment putting this man behind bars? There is no concrete evidence that he killed his ex, merely a series of accidents that seem to point towards this."

How - how could anyone be expected to believe this? Oli wonders if this guy really has a degree or not.

"Oliver Sykes is a good man, a good man that had terrible things happen to him. Please, look inside your hearts and be honest with yourselves with the possibility that he is telling the truth. Let him live out his life in peace, he needs help, a doctor, counseling, not a cold jail cell for a crime he didn't commit. Thank you."

No, what he needs is a fuckin' drink or two.

"Prosecution?"

Mr. Gaskarth looks like the kind of guy that picked on you in high school. The popular jock that had all the pretty girls begging for their attention day in and day out, the one who made bad grades but the teachers let him off because he was just so pretty, and the one the football team and that "made the school so proud". It made Oli sick looking at him.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," Alex began, full cockiness on display, well tailored suit shining in the artificial light, "This case is plain and simple. An ex-lover jealous of the new one. Kills the ex since he can't have him to himself, and disposes of the body. Comes back to clean up the mess but is too late to fix it. We've all seen it dozens of times in the news, and this wouldn't be the first case I've come across. Anyone that could kill in this manner, have their friend's blood on them and not even bat an eye, is not fit for society. You don’t want this happening to anyone else, there is enough crime on in the world. Put this man behind bars so that Kellin's family can sleep at night a little easier, knowing that justice has been served. Thank you."

"Thank you Mr. Gaskarth, the court will now adjourn for the jury to make their decision."

***

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" Judge Franceschi asks, tiredly, after an hour of recess. Oli had a drink of water and a talk with his attorney, whom couldn't even fake optimism to save his life.

"Yes, your honor," a stocky woman replies as she stands, "We, the jury, find the defendant, Oliver Sykes, guilty with first-degree murder."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Finally got this one out. I was so excited about the idea of this and have worked so hard on it for weeks (I'm talking hours before work and then after work every day for like three weeks). This first chapter is the first idea that came to be and the rest of the story bloomed from it and yeah. BTW the judge was josh from You Me at Six for anyone that didn't catch that. XD
> 
>   
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	2. The Evidence

[January 10th, 2015] 

"Your foot is in my back!"

"Fine, I'll move it. Jesus, do you have to lie your head down on my legs?" Oli grunts, shifting his position somewhat so that he can be comfortable and accommodate for Kellin's creepy way of 'relaxing'.

"Your legs are comfy, though. How can I resist?"

"They're bony," Oli deadpans. 

"Your point is? I'm comfortable now," Kellin replies, snatching the remote off the coffee table and pressing play. A loud rumble arises from the cheap speakers, loud enough to wake the neighbors, probably. Kellin shifts his head and looks up at Oli, smiling, before returning his gaze to the TV.

Halfway through the movie Oli is gently stroking Kellin's hair. It's greasy, but it doesn't gross him out, nothing about Kellin does. They've known each other for so long they're practically inseparable. 

"And there they go! Haha, those morons. That part always gets me," Kellin exclaims, using weird hand motions to express his excitement.

*** 

[July 14th, 2015] 

"You wanna know what I think?" Kellin asks over a mouthful of takeout chicken.

"I think you should swallow your food before you talk, mate," Oli says, pointing a plastic fork in his direction.

"Wasn't talking to you," Kellin snaps back, pointing his own plastic fork. They should have a fork duel. Kellin puts his down before Oli can start the war, though. Maybe later. "What I was saying, Elliott, is that I am sure that Beau guy likes you."

Elliott is the new employee that's been working at the bank for less than five months. He's blonde and a little shy, but once you got to know him he wouldn't shut up. He had recently come out of his shell for both Oli and Kellin, but the sudden mention of whoever 'Beau' is, has him all closed up again.

Elliott's cheeks are a bright pink color.

"No, he doesn't he just - no. I can't see that at all."

"He comes in every day. No one could possibly have something to do at the bank everyday, unless they're like, a drug dealer or something," Kellin says.

Oli gives him a sideways look. "A drug dealer, really? Why would they come in daily?"

"Oh, I don't know! Lots of reasons. To deposit money, withdraw, open accounts-"

Elliott takes a large bite of his lunch.

"What's he really doing in here every day? Come on, tell us, mate. We can keep a secret," Oli pries. It's certainly humorous how silent Elliott is for once, normally he's the one with a mouthful of words that barely lets anyone else get a word in.

"Can't."

"Why not? We're not asking you to tell us what financial stuff he's doing! Just the personal stuff. Like, is he coming to just ask you out every day? Are you having sex with him every day?" Kellin leans his elbows on the table, eager for an answer.

Oli laughs when Elliott chokes on his sandwich and glares at Kellin. 

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," Elliott snaps.

"Yeah, give him a blowjob in the breakroom next time he comes in, I'm sure he'd love to have you down on your knees-"

"Shut up, Oli!" Elliott exclaims, covering his face in shame. Kellin is laughing now, and seeing his smile makes Oli feel things - he's happier than he was before.

"Ok, ok. Just saying what the man probably wants, but you're not getting the hint."

Elliott sighs heavily. "He wants to go to the movies, that's what he wants."

Kellin gawks at him. "Why haven't you? Movies are fun!"

Oli rolls his eyes, and is about to say something sarcastic when his mood is completely ruined.

"What's up, guys?" Vic exclaims happily, making his way into the room and towards the fridge. "Finally got that woman's account unfrozen. Don't know what it was, must have been some glitch in the system or something. I was about to call Alan for help I was so desperate." He looks over at Kellin and smiles big.

"Dude. You can't call him, hell, call Gabe before you ever call Alan," Kellin replies. Vic shuts the fridge and sits next to Kellin at the table, as close as humanly possible. The sight of it makes Oli's skin crawl. Vic's arm is touching Kellin's - Kellin moves his away, but Vic pushes closer again.

Oli suddenly isn't interested in his food anymore. He hates when Vic's lunch break collides with theirs, it takes all the fun out of it. There's nothing inherently wrong with Vic, it's just that - he doesn't like him. There's not even a reason, other than maybe a tad bit of jealously. Friendship jealously, if that's even a thing. Kellin is Vic's friend too, and for some strange reason he can't help but feel jealous whenever Kellin is interacting with him. He never tells him this, of course, he can be friends with whoever he wants, but Vic just seemed different to Oli. 

He's not sure Vic likes him much either. The feeling is probably mutual.

Oli pokes at the tomatoes on his plate with his fork as he listens to their conversation. 

"Gabe? Gabe is an absolute moron, he'd probably crash the whole damn system!" Vic laughs, popping a can of coke, offering some of it to Kellin, whom shakes his head no in response. Vic persists until Kellin accepts the drink, taking a quick swig and then forcing a smile.

"He almost did one time, from what I heard," Elliott chimes in, "Back in '07?"

"Oh yeah! I remember that. Boss wouldn't stop talking about it for days," Vic replies. "Do you remember, Kellin?"

Kellin shrugs in response.

Oli pushes his chair away from the table, throwing the rest of his food in the trash - he needs some fresh air.

"Where are you going?" Kellin asks quickly. "You didn't finish your lunch!"

"Not hungry."

He walks out of the room without another word; it was easier that way. He knew it was childish to leave so abruptly, but he just couldn't put up with it today. 

How much Kellin likes Vic, Oli is unsure of. He always knew Kellin referred to Oli as his 'best friend', but what was Vic? Next in line? More than that? Not that he even cares.

It's hot outside, not a good day to take a walk at all, but it's better than being in there, suffocated by whatever relationship they had. The traffic is heavy since it's lunch hour, horns honking, tires screeching so that their occupants can get to their destination as quickly as possible.

Oli doesn't have a problem with any of Kellin's other friends. Elliott was cool. Mike, whom was Vic's brother, was OK too. There's others, but Oli doesn't know their names, but he knows he doesn't dislike any of them per say. Everyone was fine, but Vic.

Maybe it's because of the way Vic looks at Kellin. With that look in his eyes - the one that shows it's more than just friendship between them.

Is it? 

He doesn't care - at least that what he tells himself fifty times over before he gets back to the bank. He opens the doors, the cold air hitting his face and he sighs in relief. He goes back to his desk even though he's still on lunch break.

*** 

[January 14th, 2016] 

"Tequilas, all around!" Mike exclaims, passing shot glasses around the room. Smoke hangs loosely in the air, as it always does at Vic's place on a Friday night. It would bother him normally, but it's okay now because Oli's had a few drinks (enough that he doesn't even remember the exact number) and his skin is buzzing with excitement. For what - he doesn't know. Maybe the alcohol is hitting him a little hard tonight.

He takes the shot glass Mike offers him anyways.

Kellin is across the crowded room, Vic hovering over him. Vic has a drink in one hand and the other is supporting himself on the wall behind Kellin. He's talking quietly, that much Oli can tell from a distance. Kellin is nodding and Vic leans closer, whispering something in his ear before wandering off. Oli finishes his drink and watches as Elliott makes his way over to Kellin, and talks casually with him. 

Oli finishes one more drink and grabs another before walking over to where Kellin and Elliott are talking.

He's really beautiful like this, hair down, no attention to how he looks whatsoever - Oli prefers it. He can just make out the last bits of a smile on his face. It draws him closer, like a magnetic pull, his legs take him there. It's normal to be attracted to your best friend, to be around him all of the time, ask anyone. 

Totally. Normal.

"And you still haven't asked him?" Kellin is saying.

"No! I was gonna let him ask me," Elliott replies, when he notices Oli. "Oli! Where have you been?"

"Drinking. Lots. Lots of drinking, and thinking." He slurs his words quite a bit. "Do you have a nice face?" he says (asks? He's not sure what he's trying to say) to Kellin.

Elliott and Kellin look at each other before breaking out into hysterical laughter.

"Oli, I think - I think I need to take you home," Kellin says, once he finally recovers from his laughter.

"Sounds like a plan," he says happily. He sways, grabbing onto Kellin for support. His shoulder is warm and inviting, perfect for laying your head down on, and like, breathing. He spots Vic out of the corner of his eye as they leave - he has his arms crossed and looks like he might be upset about something.

Oli couldn't care less.

He somehow manages to make it out to the car without passing out or crying. He feels like crying a lot right now, which is weird because he never cries. 

Kellin starts the car and tells him something about where they're going but Oli isn't listening, he's staring at him instead. And after a bit of comfortable silence, he feels like kissing.

"You alone?" he asks, barely aware of the words leaving his lips. There's an odd voice in the back of his head that's screaming at him, but he can't understand what it's saying. The voice is probably a weirdo.

"What? Yeah, sure. Alone with you," he replies, flipping the turn signal on and looking behind his shoulder.

"Like that. That's nice." Oli stares at the bright lights along the sides of the road for the rest of the drive.

In the apartment Kellin helps him to his bed. Once there, Kellin takes off Oli's shoes, lying him down onto three fluffy pillows. They seem fluffier then before. He vaguely wonders if Kellin did something to them to make them so nice. He thinks about asking.

"There we go. How are you feeling?"

Blue eyes. Maybe they're not blue, maybe they're gray. If the light hits them just right, they look blue, though. Oli likes that he can't figure out what color they are. He also likes that Kellin's lips are so pink. It almost looks like he has lipstick on - which is a nice thought.

"Oli?"

"Yes," he replies, at least that's what he thinks he says. He cups a hand on Kellin's jaw and Kellin stares at him. Oli may be drunk, but he can tell when Kellin's breath catches, and it does then. "You are my favorite person."

"You, uh, too, Oli. Best friend," he replies, putting his hand on top of his. "You need some sleep."

Sleep - sleep sounds nice. He'd like to shut his eyes for a moment, or maybe for lots of moments.

"Goodnigh'," Oli says, before drifting off quickly to a dream that he doesn't remember.

*** 

[October 3rd, 2018] 

He's driving through the rain to the supermarket one dark Wednesday night when Kellin calls him, crying. A clap of thunder erupts through the air as he answers.

"Hey, are you okay? What's wrong?" Oli asks, worriedly. He turns up the speed of his windshield wipers - he can barely see out the window.

"I need you, need to talk to you now," he sobs, barely able to get the words out.

"Where are you?" he asks, pulling into an empty parking lot, beneath a bright streetlight.

"My apartment, get here as soon as you can."

Oli's there in five minutes flat (he ran two red lights, nearly hit the curb, and flew ninety miles per hour through a "strict enforcement zone", but thankfully doesn't get pulled over). He unlocks the door, nearly tripping over himself coming in.

"Kellin?" he calls out into the small apartment. The lights are on in the bedroom, and a rerun of House is playing on the living room television.

"Coming," Kellin replies, rushing towards him from the bedroom, wrapping his arms around Oli's waist. He buries his head in his chest. Oli puts a hand on the back of Kellin's head in an attempt to comfort him. 

"What in the hell-"

"I've made some mistakes," he sobs, attempting to get somewhat of a hold of himself. "And they're coming back to haunt me."

They're sitting on the faded couch in Kellin's living room, or what would be called a living room if the apartment actually had rooms. It's barely big enough to have the couch in it to begin with. The TV is still on, but the volume is turned low. Kellin always liked it on, at least as background noise. He couldn't stand a quiet apartment.

They're sitting closer together than they need to be, and Oli's not sure who touched who first, but their thighs are touching. He's finding it hard to concentrate. Kellin's jeans are ripped on the top of his left thigh and Oli is fixated upon the little bit of skin that shows through. 

"I've done some bad things," Kellin repeats after they're settled on the couch. "Not recently, he adds quickly, "Just - a long time ago. I was young and stupid, and I - didn't think about what I was doing."

"I don't know what you're leading up to here, Kels," Oli says, Kellin smiles somewhat at the mention of the nickname. Oli had started using it only a month ago, and Kellin seemed to be ok with it thus far, never said he didn't like it, so Oli had kept using it. Now was the perfect time too, in order to comfort at least.

"I - drugs. I used to sell drugs, Oli. To lots of people for lots of money, that I didn't get to keep much of." Kellin picks at his nails as he talks.

"Oh, shit, that's not that bad! Come on, I've had loads of friends who've sold-"

"To a child! He wasn't even seventeen yet!" he sobs, burying his head in Oli's shoulder. Even though Oli doesn't understand this at all, he wraps an arm around his shoulders. "He OD'd."

"What?" Oli says.

"He overdosed. Died, Oli - I killed him."

Oli tries to say something, but the words won't come out. Kellin's eyes are red, bloodshot.

"Only one person knows other than you. He hasn't told because I promised him money - and lots of it-"

"Wait, hold on, all of this must have been years and years ago, right?"

"Ten years ago, around three years before I met you, Oli. I'm a completely different person now. The guy I owe money to used to be my drug dealer, and I never got the money from the kid that - that died. He had bought a lot, some for his friends, himself…"

"Kellin…"

"And now, he's demanding to be paid back in full. I've only chipped away at the amount I owe, a little here and there, you know, but he says he needs it all now and… I…"

Oli grabs Kellen's hand and squeezes it. "How much?"

"One hundred fifty thousand. Otherwise - he'll kill me."

Oli's heart sinks through the floor. He can't believe what he's just heard or what's happening. He squeezes Kellin's hand harder.

"Jesus." Oli looks up at the ceiling, as if begging it to give him the answers he needs. 

"If you want to leave and not be associated with me anymore and this mess, I understand-"

"I'm not leaving," Oli says with certainty. He stands up, pacing the room. Glances over the pictures framed on the wall. "I just need some time to think." 

He stares at one particular photo, it of when Kellin and him went to New York together. Kellin is holding two fingers up behind Oli's head to make it look like bunny ears. Kellin had to stand on his tip toes to do it, and Oli remembers laughing hard when he realized what he was doing, that's why he looks like a fuckin' loon in the picture. They had gone to some stupid conference for work, so they hadn't had much time to do personal stuff, but it was fun all the same. Kellin had the choice to hang out with Vic instead, but he chose Oli. Oli had forgotten about that - it had been so long ago, long before he ever felt that twinge of jealously. Their friendship had already become more than simply 'friends' but it was nothing near the way it was now.

Oli would do anything for him.

"I want to talk to this guy, see if I can reason with him, Oli says, turning his attention back to Kellin.

"What? No way, I'm not getting you involved directly with him. He'd hurt you, there's no way I'm risking that."

Oli huffs. "I can take him. Anyone that's willing to murder my best friend deserves a face to face confrontation."

The two of them make eye contact. Kellin's face is unreadable, Oli steps forward and gets on his knees in front of him.

"We're going to find a way to get you out of this," Oli promises, putting a hand on Kellin's knee. Kellin nods, eyes welling up with tears.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's all in the past now. You were young, and you made a mistake. We can fix it. Trust me, I'll never let anyone hurt you."

*** 

[October 5th, 2018] 

They're at Vic's place, they always are on Fridays. This is when a lot of friends are here, there's drinks and food, and lots of partying.

Tonight's different. There are no drugs or alcohol, no people other than Vic, and no music blaring in the background.

Kellin had insisted that Vic can be trusted, and that he had told him about the situation as well. Oli had been slightly hurt by the fact that he was comfortable enough with Vic to tell him, but once again he knows this jealousy is unwarranted. 

It bothers him nonetheless.

"One hundred fifty thousand? Damn," Vic huffs, leaning back onto his hands. They're sitting around each other on the wooden floor, on pillows that must have been in the family for years. They're actually pretty comfy for something that Oli's pretty sure was homemade, most likely by Vic's mother.

"Drugs aren't cheap," Kellin explains. He picks at a loose thread on his jeans, before looking up suddenly. "Life insurance!" he exclaims. Oli looks over at him as if he has just burst into flames. "No, hear me out. I've got that policy, you know, on me?"

"Yeah, and?" Oli says, unsure of where the hell he could possibly be going with this.

"It's set at a little over one fifty grand! Maybe one seventy five?"

Vic whistles impressively. "That high?" 

"So what?" Oli says, interrupting Vic's near encouragement. "That money isn't going anywhere until you die. And when you do, my name's on it anyways, so it would just go to me. What good is it at that point?"

"No, you're right, bad idea," Kellin replies, drumming his fingertips on his legs. "I just, remembered it was there."

"Doesn't matter," Oli says, his final word on the subject.

*** 

[October 8th, 2018] 

Three days later, the life insurance does matter.

"What if I die, though," Kellin suggests over a dinner of leftover takeout. They're at Oli's place, both sitting at the tiny dining table he had put in the kitchen. 

"That's exactly what we are trying to avoid in the first place!" Oli exclaims, sitting down beside Kellin with a glass of Coke.

"No, hear me out, what if it's fake?"

Oli ponders this for a moment. How could they possibly fake his death and it still remain believable? 

"I've heard of people doing that, and it never works. They just think the person ran away or something. The insurance company would never buy it," he points out.

"What if we made it look like I was murdered?"

Oli nearly chokes on the water he's drinking. He coughs once, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"Are you-"

"You could be the one to murder me. It'd be an honor, honestly," Kellin suggests, in some sort of attempt to lighten the mood, to no effect, however.

"Kellin, I hate to break it to you, but I would go to jail!" Oli stares at him dumbfoundedly.

"Listen, I've talked this through with Vic already. He can get you out of there easily. He's done it dozens of times for his friends-"

"What the hell kind of friends does he have that he needs to break out of prison?" Oli asks, not that he's surprised Vic hangs out with that kind of crowd anyways.

"Look, are you going to listen or not?" Kellin snaps, slamming his fork down onto the table.

"Fine, go on."

"He knows where the dead-spots are in the cells, where the cameras can't see - how to break into the air ducts - how to outsmart the guards; he knows it Oli, and he's good at it."

Oli's not eating anymore. He looks into Kellin's eyes - long and hard.

He takes a deep breath. "I'm not saying I won't, but once you die, the money is going to me and I'll be in jail."

"That's why I'm going to make Vic my beneficiary instead of you."

Oli hates this, he really does. The mere idea of placing so much trust in Vic makes his stomach turn. But Kellin trusts him; and Kellin is his best friend. Shouldn't he put some faith in his decisions? 

"You would have to hide for the rest of your life," Oli points out, hoping it would change Kellin's mind.

"I'll change my name, dye my hair. Look, Oli, if I don't get this money to him, he's coming for me. He's a killer, I know he is, I've fucking seen it. I hung around the wrong crowd and I - I'm paying for it now. But I promise we can fix this. I trust Vic, he can help. If you don't want to, just - I'll find someone else-"

"What about when I get out? Of prison?"

"You can change your name and hair too," Kellin smiles. "We'll move to Canada or something. New York? Lay low for a while, though. Vic offered his brother's place."

"OK, let's talk to Vic, then," Oli says, the words sting as they leave his mouth.

  


"We'd try to make them think it's one of those ex-lover crime things. You know - the whole boyfriend killing his ex cause he's jealous. They won't suspect a thing," Vic says. There's gin on the table but Oli hasn't even reached for it. The last thing he needs is to be drunk. "You look like you could be a killer, anyways."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Oli snaps, harsher than he intends to, but he doesn't regret it. Kellin doesn't try to calm him down like he normally would he got angry with Vic. He's thankful for that - at least.

"Sorry, didn't mean to offend you, just saying that you don't look like the squeaky clean type. Honestly, I'm surprised you don't have a sentence or two underneath your belt already," he says calmly. If only he knew the violent thoughts he provoked every time he spoke to Oli…

Kellin puts a comforting hand on the small of Oli's back. He leans into the touch, and notices Vic's eyes flicker towards it - Kellin removing his hand as if in pain. Oli internally scowls at Vic.

"So, the thing is, we have to do it strategically, right?" Kellin asks, in an attempt to ease the rising tension.

"Exactly. Text trails, people at work to see us… I would say the so called 'break up' between the two of you should happen tonight. We pretend you were dating, you break up, treat each other as such, but still remain somewhat friends to make it semi-believable. Tomorrow, Kellin will change the life insurance policy beneficiary to me because it's after the 'break up'. I would say you both should avoid all contact each other for several days, a week would be best."

"A week?" Oli repeats, glancing over at Kellin, who looks as if he already knew this and was just as upset.

"I have the whole timeline written out as well," Vic continues, spreading out a stack of paper between them. "We'll have to make sure everything is done right, or else someone could catch on."

"Who else is in on this?" Oli grabs the papers and scans through them.

"My brother and Tony - no one else needs to know."

There's a paper with the title 'murder details' in neat handwriting. It involves a knife and Kellin's blood, cutting and smearing… Oli quickly puts it aside. There's another with details of the prison escape; this one is overflowing with details, showing which areas of the cells are safe to be in, where the air ducts run overhead, which windows are accessible from the outside, ect. It also says that two weeks after his sentence begins the escape plan will be executed.

"I only have to stay in there for two weeks?" Oli asks, pointing towards the paper in his hand.

"Yeah, Mike and I will be there to get you out. If anything goes wrong, which I doubt, Tony has several inside people that can help us," Vic says, looking extremely confident. "After the escape, we'll bring you back to Mike's place where you and Kellin can hang low for a while. During which time we can figure out your new identities as well as were you should move to. The money will come in from Kellin's life insurance at some point, and I'll use it to pay back his dealer. Then everyone is happy, the end."

Oli should question how Vic knows all of this - how he is so experienced with helping people escape from prison, how he's come up with such an elaborate plan within less than a week. 

But he has no time. Kellin's life is in danger, and so far, this seems like the best plan to take if he hopes to keep him safe. He may not like nor trust Vic, but Kellin does, and Kellin means something to him.

Kellin means everything to him.

"What do you think, Oli?" Kellin asks, biting his lip nervously. "I don't like it either, but - I don't want to die," he says in a small voice.

"I think," he says, glancing at Vic then back at Kellin's hopeful eyes, "I think I'll do it."

***

[November 4th, 2018 9:57 PM] 

Oli's shaking as he walks up the cement steps to Kellin's apartment. It's cold, even more so than usual for November. The wind blows through his hair, and he thinks to himself that this is the last time he can show his face without being known as a killer.

He's fumbling with the key. His hands are shaking; once, twice, three times, and he still can't get it in. He takes a deep breath, steadies himself, and tries the key again.

It goes in, clicks, and unlocks. The door creaks open, a soft light seeping out through the door out into the hallway. He closes it behind himself, latching the lock exactly as they had planned.

Kellin instantly rushes over to him, embracing him so tightly that his bones ached - but he was glad. Glad to be back in his friend's embrace. Glad to see him once again, instead of across the room at the bank. It had nearly broken him.

"Missed you," Kellin whispers into his shoulder. He can feel tears soaking the thin cotton of his shirt.

Oli can't speak. If he does, he won't be able to stop, and they're supposed to be starting this now. Kellin is wearing a sleeveless shirt, one of those band shirts that Oli said he had ruined by cutting the sleeves off. What Oli had really meant is that the shirt actually looked better on him now, but best friends like teasing each other.

"The knife is on the table," Kellin whispers, looking up into Oli's eyes. Oli breaks from the embrace to get the weapon they planned to use. He doesn't want to do this. He wishes he could turn back now, go back and figure out some other way to come up with the money, but it's too late.

It's now or never.

Oli crosses the small room, standing in front of him now. Kellin supports himself by pressing his back against the couch. 

"You get this taken care of right when you leave, okay? Promise me?" he asks, each word shaking.

Kellin nods. "I promise."

"And tell me if it hurts too badly and I need to stop," he says, unable to make eye contact with him. He brings the knife up to his upper right arm - the blade is sharp, sharper than Oli thought it would be. It pierces Kellin's skin easily, and instead of screaming, Kellin softly moans, biting his lower lip between his teeth. It's not a deep cut, it didn't need to be. Once the red starts, it flows. The knife is coated in blood, and Oli draws another line with it near the last one, this one longer, better.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, making another cut, lower this time.

"No, it's different," Kellin replies, biting down onto his lower lip.

Oli resists the urge to kiss him.

Kellin shuts his eyes, grabs Oli's arm with his hand and grips tightly, his nails digging into Oli's skin. The knife is set aside, and Oli's fingertips brush the edge of the cuts. He paints the blood on his own shirt, gathering more to smear on his jeans. He looks up to find Kellin staring at him intensely.

"Press on it, it'll bleed more," he whispers. Oli does so, his heart racing. It feels like nothing else he's ever experienced before, the intensity of it. Kellin's look is obscene, lips so red and swollen now, Oli can't help but feel things he shouldn't be, given the circumstances.

He's not sure how long they stay at it, and he doesn't remember pressing himself up against Kellin. Kellin lies his head down on his shoulder and breathes hard, pulling him closer.

"Let's take it to the bedroom," Kellin breathes.

If they're sticking to the story, Kellin is theoretically his ex-boyfriend. Which means that Kellin would have been underneath him every night probably, chest heaving, moaning, begging for more. 

Oli would give it to him.

He wipes his hands off onto the sheets and crawls onto the bed, hovering over Kellin's willing body. He's taking it so good, so easily. 

"I trust you," Kellin whispers into the silence. 

Oli leans down, presses his lips against Kellin's arm, close enough to get the metallic liquid into the kiss. It tastes like copper and salt. Kellin makes an appreciative noise watching him, and Oli could've sworn he bucked his hips forward.

"You, you think this is enough?" Oli manages to say, though it all. His mind is spinning.

"A bit more," he replies. Kellin reaches over to press his own fingers onto his arm, and then to Oli's lips.

Oli opens his mouth, sucking them clean.

"Fuck," Kellin says so quietly, Oli barely hear it.

They don't move for another minute or so. Oli lies down next to him on the bed. Kellin rolls over onto the cuts and winces, facing Oli. The bleeding has already slowed up, the wounds covering themselves in temporary shields.

"Stay safe, Oli," he says, grabbing his hand and holding tight. "Don't get into any trouble, you know, don't punch anyone."

"I'm not gonna punch anyone," Oli says, positively. "I have no reason to, as long as I get to see you again."

"You will," Kellin assures him, grabbing Oli's hand and holding tight.

Kellin leaves through the back window, since there were no security cameras on that side of the building.

There is a car waiting, and Oli watches as Kellin crawls in the passengers' seat and as the car speeds away.

He lies down onto the bed, covered in blood and sweat, wondering how long it will be until he sees Kellin again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
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	3. The Verdict

It's a long walk to his cell. There's shouting coming from either side of the hallway, it threatens to break his pride, but he keeps his head high. Unlike every other person in this place, he has hope. Something to look forward to - a reason to keep his sanity intact.

One of the guards tell him he’ll be lucky if he lasts a week in the place, whatever that means.

"Enjoy your stay, skinny boy," the guard grunts, throwing him inside the cage and slamming the cell shut. He braces himself on the wall to keep from falling, and looks around to notice that there's someone in the bottom bunk of the bunkbeds. A long grunt that emerges from it and Oli swallows nervously.

"Hmph," a large, oh so very large, man says, poking his head out. He has scars on his face and is missing a tooth. Oli used to think his tattoos gave him a 'tough' appearance, but he now realizes how wrong he was. He glances in the mirror and he looks positively puny, especially in the baggy prison clothes they had so kindly provided for him to wear, with his number displayed proudly on the back like he was some sort of object.

Scarface hobbles out of the bunk, giving Oli a quick glance over. He suddenly feels very exposed, even though he's fully clothed. He doesn't want to talk, but he feels too intimidated to cross paths with the guy and go up to his own bunk.

Thankfully, Scarface merely takes a piss and then lays back down.

It's a long night.

***

The food tastes like melted plastic. It's chewy and tasteless, and on the third day, Oli stops eating. He's not hungry anyways. He sits at the lunch table instead listening to the fights break out, the dark jokes that the inmates tell, and the hollering of insane laughter that he could almost see himself adopting if he were kept in here too long.

On the fourth day, Scarface decided to take up a conversation with him, sometime in the middle of the night.

"What're you in for?" Scarface asks, or grunts, from the bottom bunk. Oli stares at the cracks in the ceiling as he ponders his answer.

"Murdering my ex-boyfriend. You?"

"Rape, but don't you worry, I'm only interested in women," he laughs.

Somehow this doesn't make Oli stop worrying.

"Did you fuck him?" Scarface asks after a while of uncomfortable silence. Oli grinds his teeth. “You know - after you killed him. I always wanted to try that - they can’t resist when they’re dead. I imagine it’s useful when it’s a male-“

“SHUT UP!” he screams, jumping down off the top bunk and allowing a fist to collide with Scarface’s cheek. Fists fly, the guards come, a tug on his sleeve - and everything is insanely bright - blindingly so - and then pitch black.

***

“One more stich ought to do ya,” the blond haired nurse tells him. She has a heavy southern accent that makes you think of a mother on a sitcom. “It honestly doesn’t look as bad as it feels, I’m sure.”

“Hopefully not, I’d probably look like a fuckin’ massacre if it did.”

“Oh, cheer up. They’re moving you, you know. You won’t have to stay with ole’ crusty another second,” she says cheerily, as happily as one would announce dinner’s ready. He gives her a forced smile for the effort before he’s guided away towards his new caged habitat.

The guard doesn’t throw him in this time; Oli actually gets to use his feet. The cell closes with a clang that echoes down the corridor. There’s a skinny man lying in the bottom bunk this time, whom jumps out at the sight of him.

“Hey… you look familiar!” he exclaims. His red hair is so frizzy that it doesn't look like it's seen a brush in weeks. Oli can't help but notice the man's forearms - they're covered in scar tissue. It doesn't look like he was cut, more like burned, to the point of ruining his arms for life. 

Oli makes himself look away, and into the man's eyes instead. "Familiar?"

"Yeah," he replies, coming closer and staring at him oddly. The man then rushes to his bunk, rummaging under the covers, then proceeds to crawl underneath the bed. He pulls out a box that's filled with newspapers going through it until he finds what he is apparently looking for. "I knew it!"

He shoves a worn newspaper towards Oli, and he takes it. Oli's face is plastered on the front page, with bold letters above it:

Oliver Sykes found Guilty of First-Degree Murder

"It was on the frontpage for weeks! There were lots of articles during the trial too," he explains, grabbing the paper back and flipping through its pages. "See, here's more, and there," he points.

"I didn't know it was that popular of a case." 

"Lots of people had feelings about it. Really controversial, you know, without the body as evidence and all."

Oli shuffles his feet. "Yeah."

He sticks his hand out towards Oli. "I'm Josh, by the way. Josh Dun."

"Oli, but I guess you already knew that."

They shake hands.

***

Oli doesn't think much of it at first, but realizes later on that Josh had simply accepted him as a friend without so much as asking whether or not he was guilty of the crime. He just - accepted him, the way he was. It was nice. After three days of nothing but silence in the cell with Scarface (minus the initial greeting and later confrontation) it was a welcoming change to have someone chattering away about nonsense all of the time. 

It doesn't make the nights any easier, though. Once Josh falls asleep Oli finds himself thinking about Kellin. About the way he looks when he laughs, to spending movie night with him, to that last night he saw him… It hurts more with every silent second that passes. He hopes the memories don't start to fade at the edges, that he can grasp them tightly and remember every detail within them, hoping they'll be enough to keep him sane before he leaves this place.

It's funny, you think the other prisoners are going to be the most intimidating thing about being locked up, but they're not. It's the silence, the loneliness, the solitude. The moments your cellmate is silent and you have only yourself and the concrete walls to get you through the night. 

You argue with your thoughts, you ask yourself if you're going insane.

You miss your best friend.

Oli comforts himself by counting down the days left until he gets to see Kellin's pretty face again.

Yes, Oli has come to terms with the fact he thinks it's pretty.

***

There's a secluded area in the courtyard where a metal bench rests that Oli sits on after the lunch hour. This is where they let the prisoners out that have behaved themselves (Scarface is nowhere to be seen, Oli wonders if he had gotten himself into more trouble).

It's hot as hell, so Oli spends it sitting in the shade, scribbling nonsense on the flimsy notepad that Josh had given him - claiming that 'writing will do you some good'. So he writes a couple of bad poems and draws a tree. 

Josh runs up to his little spot at the bench, panting.

"It's hot," he says, chest heaving. "Really hot." He's shirtless and very pale.

Oli turns a page in the notepad, covering the words and the tree. "Yeah, I noticed."

"Why don't you come running with me? It's something else you can do to pass the time." He nudges him.

Oli shakes his head. "Too busy with the notebook."

"Come on, you can do that tonight, you need some sun. It'll boost your spirits."

Josh grabs Oli's arm and yanks him to his feet, Oli reluctantly goes with him.

It wasn't that bad, the running.

***

He finds himself dreaming of Kellin at night, dreaming of being with him in ways that he had never even thought of before. When he wakes from these dreams, he justifies them to himself by saying it's because he's been so lonely for so long. It's because the walls can make you think things.

Josh says the walls don't make you have the thoughts, your thoughts just don't like the walls.

This confuses Oli at first, but the longer he thinks about it the more it seems to make sense.

But then again, Josh could just be crazy. He says he doesn't mind prison. He has a prison job, has made a couple of friends (he includes Oli in that list - which makes Oli feel good), and has a decent amount of hobbies for someone locked up in a place that outwardly seems impossible to excel in. He seems oddly optimistic about everything, which helps Oli's fucked up mood sometimes.

***

Two days until the scheduled escape and he's started eating again. (He's not sure escape is the word he'd use to describe it though, since he's not even supposed to really be here in the first place.) He's also been working out with Josh daily now, and even applied to get a part time prison job (what the hell, might as well even if he won't be there to see if he's accepted).

"You'll like the job, you know," Josh converses over a breakfast of oatmeal and toast. The toast is really quite good when you're hungry, stale or not.

"I bet."

"The chicks dig a prison worker," he jokes, nudging Oli underneath the table.

Oli coughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"I'm gay?" he says with confusion.

"Dude, I'm talking about me!" Josh exclaims, laughing.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about all the girls that lurk around these places. Which one were you interested in again?"

"Shut up, I'm saying once I get out, man. I'll have street cred or whatever people call it. I'll have ladies all over me once I get out, and I'll tell them I can even get a job in prison. It's a great pick up line."

Oli leans his elbows on the table. "I don't know… That hair - I think you need to do something with it. Chop it all off, maybe. The chicks love a bald guy."

"No - no fucking way. My hair is my defining characteristic," Josh says proudly, running a hand through it as if it didn't look like red cotton candy.

They eat the rest of their meal in a comfortable silence. After Oli has made sure to scape away any stray bits of oatmeal (it's a long time until lunch), he pushes his bowl aside and turns his full attention to Josh.

"So, tell me, what did you do that could have possibly landed your ass in a prison cell?"

Josh gives him a long look, as if considering him. Seeing if he was trustworthy enough to tell his tale.

"Only if you promise to tell me your story later."

"It's a deal."

"I have a friend," he begins, settling back, getting as comfortable as allowed by the hard metal bench, "His name's Tyler. And I also have a habit of not listening to people, even him. I'm just - hardheaded, at least that's what Tyler says it is. Anyways, he kept telling me not to play with fire and matches and I was like 'fuck you, dude, it's cool" and he kept telling me no it's not.

So we're at this abandoned house over in Bonsall county and I was doing some fireworks shit and-"

Josh stops talking abruptly, looks at some people that walk by, messes with his wrists, then begins again.

"Something went wrong. I'm not exactly sure what, but whatever it was - it happened fast. House caught on flames, I carried Tyler out of it; we both got burned pretty badly. By the time the fire department got there the house was gone. Thankfully no one else was hurt, but…" he trails.

"But?"

"Tyler was, not real bad just - about like this but his legs," he puts forth his arms to show Oli. The skin is tight and dark red, all the way up to his elbows. "He wasn't mad about it or anything, he just - told me he was happy I was OK."

Josh looks as if he can't go on telling the story. His eyes are welling up with tears and Oli can tell he's trying hard to fight the urge to cry. Oli reaches across the table and grabs his hand, holding on, hoping that maybe it would help.

"Tyler's family didn't like me to begin with. I'm bad news to them, and they're really religious and all that and I'm not - so they've always had it out for me. Long story short, Tyler got burned so they pressed charges, hard ones. They can afford a good lawyer, I can't afford shit - so here I am."

"What about Tyler?"

"Oh, he's okay. He's healed up alright and a lot better - he says he's upset with his family for putting me here. But, I deserve it; I hate myself for hurting him. I mean, he won't say it, but it hurts him. The scaring and the pain it caused it - and knowing that hurts me. I feel like I deserve this, you know?"

"You don't deserve this, it was an accident, Josh-"

"But it happened! I hurt Tyler! He wasn't playing with fire - I was. He told me to stop, I didn't, and things - Things caught on flames and I couldn't feel a thing and Tyler. He kept screaming, Oli. He was screaming and his skin was so black…"

The guards signal the time to get up, and they do. Oli hugs Josh, reassuring him it was okay now.

***

Two days later and Oli's mood is the best it's been in weeks. Tonight Vic will come get him, he will finally set him free again and things can begin going back to normal - or whatever normal happens to be after this.

He's walking down the halls with Josh towards the courtyard, when there's a shout towards him.

"Oi, where ya going', fuckin' faggot?" a large man who doesn't appear to have a neck yells at Oli. "Think me and ma' friends would like to have a word."

The man's 'friends' are just as large and intimidating, save for the one that's taller and skinner than Oli himself - he must have been the brains of the group.

"What did you just call my friend?" Josh barks, puffing his chest out and coming up to the guy. Josh looks absurd trying to look fierce compared to someone nearly four times his size.

"Leave 'em alone, Josh. It's not worth it," Oli warns, grabbing his arm. Josh yanks it away.

"A - fuckin' - faggot," the guy spits in his face, Josh wincing with every spec of salvia that hits his face. "A mighty fine one at that, looks like he'd be a good bitch. You don't mind if we borrow him for a night, do ya?"

Oli's determined not to do anything about this, since he's getting out tonight. Why risk getting hurt in a fight when he's going to be gone anyways? 

It happens so fast, Oli almost doesn't see it. Josh throws the first punch, his fist colliding with the guy's cheek and making a cracking noise. He reacts, knocking Josh back into the wall behind them. Josh isn't down but for a second, and he's up again, ready to knock the living daylights out of the guy.

"Don't talk like that about my friend!" Josh yells, ending his statement with a harsh blow to the guy's jaw. The rest of his gang have stepped back, with shocked expressions mixed with fear.

Oli stands dumbly to the side, wishing Josh would stop and just come on before they make too much commotion or someone gets hurt.

"Alright, BREAK IT UP!" a guard yells, storming up to the two of them, shoving a pretty pistol their way. They both stand back from each other, chests heaving. Oli is just beginning to think it's all over when at the last second, the guy lunges forward, giving one last shot to Josh's face, hitting his nose and causing an instant pour of blood.

"I SAID BREAK IT UP, HARRY!" the guard shouts again, pointing his gun towards the other guy. "10 Days in solitary. And as for you," he says, kicking at Josh, whom was on his knees, but now rises to his feet. "You get yourself to the nurse. Stay in line and I won't punish you."

"Thanks, Ray," Josh mumbles, his hand covering his face, blood seeping between his fingers.

"Officer Toro," the guard corrects him, smiling despite himself. He gives a nod to Oli as he walks off, sliding his gun into his holster.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," Oli says as they make their way to the medical ward. They turn a corner and pass a couple of other inmates.

"Yes, I did. That guy is known for doing some serious shit - even in here. I can't let him think that anyone would just let him fuck with you like that."

"Thank you."

"That's just what friends do," Josh replies, glancing towards Oli and giving him a smile (at least as much as he can manage with his hand still over his face).

***

Five hours left. 

Oli is lying in his bunk, passing the time talking to Josh about their favorite movies. Apparently Josh had never seen A Clockwork Orange, and Oli has been telling him on how much he's missed out on.

There's a lull in the conversation, and Oli decides to change the subject.

"I promised you something," Oli says. He crosses his hands over his chest and stares at the ceiling. There's a spider on it, crawling towards a lone crack.

"You did?"

"That I'd tell you my story - about why I'm here."

"Oh, right! You going to?"

Oli shifts in his bunk, trying to wake his foot up so that it won't start tingling. "Yeah. So - the thing is, I'm not guilty."

Josh kicks him from the bottom bunk. "Like I haven't heard that one before," he laughs.

"No, really, mate. I faked it, he faked it. The whole thing was a pile of shit."

"Why the fuck did you do that?"

"To save him - Kellin's not dead, Josh."

"You're fucking kidding me," he deadpans. Worn out bed springs cry out as Josh does some sort of odd maneuver.

"Nope."

"Explain? So you pretended to kill your boyfriend-"

"He's not my boyfriend either, just my best friend."

"Oh, please! I read the witness' statements, you and him clearly were a thing-"

"Some of the witnesses were in on it too."

"Whoa."

"Long story short," Oli continues, "Kellin owed a guy money, and if he didn't pay up soon the guy was gonna kill him. We get the idea to 'kill' Kellin, collect the insurance money via Vic, then pay the guy back. Everyone wins."

"Interesting. But why didn't Kellin just go into hiding, then? Because that's basically what he's doing at this point anyways."

"Because the guy would still be looking for him! This way, he thinks he's dead and gone, but Vic is still gonna pay him back anyways so he's off his back forever."

There's a brief silence.

"So Vic knew?"

"Well, yeah. He's Kellin's friend."

"Seemed like he liked Kellin a lot more than a friend, he had seemed so genuinely upset."

Oli messes with the sheets on top him, kicks them off, then pulls them back up again. 

"And now your ass is in jail for what - forty years? Why in the hell did you agree to a deal like that?"

"See, that's where I get to the important part!" he exclaims, his mood suddenly lifting, "They're coming to get me out - tonight! In like, four hours - so, 2 AM?"

"Who?" Josh asks, jumping out of his bunk.

"Vic and his buddies. They've done extensive research on the jail and they know exactly how to do it. You can come with me!"

Josh's expression changes from one of excitement to guilt - Oli can see it even in the dim light.

"No," he replies quickly. "I need to serve my time."

"What? No, Josh! I - I want you to-"

Josh stops him before Oli can beg any more. "I hurt my friend, I'll never be able to live with myself if I don't."

Oli nods, even though it hurts.

2 AM comes and goes. Josh falls asleep at three. Oli lies awake all night.

Maybe… Maybe he had the days mixed up. Maybe it was actually the next day.

Except that it wasn't. It wasn't the next day or the day after that, or the following week, or the following month.

It's in the second month afterwards that Oli is sure something is up.

"Something's gone wrong," he whispers to Josh over the drilling machine's sounds of protest to being cleaned. "They should've been here by now."

Josh brushes off the oily gears and gives Oli a questioning look. "What do you think?"

"I don't know," he trails, handing Josh a screwdriver when he points to it. "I'm worried about Kellin."

Josh looks over at him like he wants to say something comforting, but also doesn't want to place false hope. He gives him a sympathetic smile and says: "I hope everything is alright."

"I hope you're right."

Except Oli knows he's not.

***

He is fucked.

"Three. Fuckin' Months!" Oli screams, kicking the wall with every word. Josh is lying in his bunk, attempting to read a comic that he had received in the mail from Tyler the previous day. This isn't the first time Oli has acted this way, his outbursts had been becoming more and more frequent the further away they got from his planned escape day.

"Oli, calm down-"

"CALM DOWN?" he yells, turning towards him. He grips onto the top bunk and glares at Josh. "How the FUCK am I supposed to calm down when Kellin might actually be dead out there? What if the guy intended to kill him no matter if he had the money or now, and somehow found him? Vic isn't the smartest guy out there, maybe he fuckin' said somethin' that tipped him off, I don't fuckin' know…"

Josh throws the comic aside, pushes past Oli to get out of his bunk. "Well, what do you want to do about it? I, mean, really. It's not like someone is going to fucking drop down and answer you if you just keep screaming loud enough."

There's a tap on the window behind them, almost silent enough to where they wouldn't have heard it if there hadn't been a brief pause in the conversation. Then a whisper.

"Josh?" the voice says, lowly.

Both of them look over at the window and they stare in awe. Josh rushes over, climbing into his bunk to peer out into the blackness.

"Tyler?" he whispers back. "What in the hell are you doing here?"

"Getting you out, obviously!" he exclaims, quietly. Oli stands back and stares in shock. In less than sixty seconds, the glass is cleaning cut and removed, and then Tyler works on the bars.

"We'll be caught!" Josh exclaims, nervously rubbing his palms together.

"No we won't, hey, who is this dude?" he asks, looking directly at Oli.

"No, he's cool, he's actually innocent, he didn't murder anyone."

"Oh, I'm supposed to believe that? I'm sure half of the people in here are 'innocent'," he says sarcastically, taking the last bar off.

"I'm sure, Tyler. I wouldn't say so unless I was."

Tyler gives Josh a long, hard look, a look that Oli can tell there's a lot going on between them that's silent and unsaid. He understands that feeling of communication, he did it with Kellin.

Josh climbs out the window, but Oli stays put.

"Come on, then!" Tyler says, motioning for Oli to follow.

He climbs out, into the frigid February air - he's free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided to go ahead and upload the whole story today - since I'm going to be posting more stories soon. Also, side note, Sleeping With Sirens' new music is SO good, and really them going hardcore again is what made me passionate about this pairing again.
> 
>   
☽ [Tumblr](https://misssnightmare.tumblr.com) │ [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MisssNightmare) │ [Dreamwidth](https://missnightmare.dreamwidth.org/) ☾


	4. The Aftermath

They run. Not fast or loud enough to cause commotion, but enough to escape. The walls aren't hard to jump, the wire at the top scrapes their knees, though. Tyler helps Josh down, Oli jumps.

It's a couple minutes into their walk before they realize they're still wearing their neon orange jumpers with prison numbers printed on the backs in bold letters, like they were cattle.

"I have clothes," Tyler says, glancing at Oli, "but only one set."

"Oli needs something," Josh insists, taking the stack of clothes Tyler grabs out of his backpack for him. Tyler looks reluctant at first, but one glance at his friend seems to give him the answers he needs.

"I'll go to my place and get something, you can come."

They go. Tyler's place isn't far, and his clothes fit Oli, although slightly baggy.

"You look funny," Josh comments, pulling a tight shirt over his head.

"Thanks," he replies shortly. He feels uncomfortable, and it's not because of the clothes. Now that he's out he can just feel the uneasiness welling up inside him. "I guess I'll be leaving now."

"You can stay with us, if you want," Josh says, hopefully.

"No, I've got to find Kellin. Something's wrong, and Vic is probably in trouble, too. If they didn't come get me, there's a chance everyone is hurt and I have to go help them."

"What's going on?" Tyler asks, gaze flickering between the two of them.

"No time," Josh says, pulling a hoodie on. "We're coming with you."

"You're not," Oli insists, "I've got to do this alone. You stay here, and stay safe. You've been a good friend." He gives him a quick pat on the shoulder and walks towards the door.

"Oli, wait!" Josh exclaims just as Oli turns the door handle. "You too, I mean, great friend. I hope we get to see each other again sometime. Coffee?"

"It's on me," he replies, even though he knows it's impossible for it to happen.

***

The walk to Mike's place, which had been the designated hideout, was a long one. He made sure to keep in the shadows of the shadows, scaring even the critters of the night that lurked in the dark corners of the street. He avoids being seen at all, save for an old man driving an equally old car down the alleyway, but he probably forgets about Oli the second he's out of sight anyways.

Everything looks okay about the house. He sees Vic's car along with Mike and Tony's parked in the back, as they usually would be on a Friday night. The lights are on inside, but Oli is taking no risks. He sneaks to the back window, where the guest bathroom is located. He takes the screen off gently, lifting the window up. It squeaks loudly, he cringes, hoping to hell that no one hears it.

He squeezes inside, closing the window behind himself, which is thankfully much quieter. He then listens.

"You did a good job with this," Vic says. He's in the kitchen, from what Oli can tell. There is no response.

"Drink! Eat! You're going to get sick, you know, if you don't eat. You'll end up losing those beautiful curves that I like so much. We wouldn’t want that now, would we?"

Oli sees them now, he's crept down the hallway far enough, peering around the corner, and the sight before him makes his stomach churn. Kellin sits at the far end of the table, paler and thinner than Oli's ever seen him. There's a plateful of untouched food in front of him, two candles lit in the center of the table. He sits awkwardly, as if orchestrated to be there.

Vic sits at the opposite end, eating away, drinking wine without a care in the world.

"When, Vic?" Kellin asks, his gaze hazy as he looks across the table at him.

There's a clatter of a fork with a plate, and Vic grabs the wine bottle in front of him, refilling his own drink angrily. The wine is expensive.

"Look, sweetheart, I don't want to talk about this anymore, let's focus on what's important now… Us-"

Kellin slams a fist on the table, Oli jumps at the sudden noise. "I don't WANT to focus on us, dammit! You told him, you promised him, and me!" he exclaims, tears streaming down his face. "I want him home, Vic."

"How can you possibly say you didn't expect this?" Vic says, standing and making his way over towards Kellin. He stands above him now, putting two fingers beneath Kellin's chin and forcing him to look up. "You already knew I liked you. I know you like this - us," he purrs, his other hand gripping Kellin's hair.

Oli's jaw is clenched hard, he's somehow still holding himself back. 

"Oli is my best friend," Kellin says quietly. Vic's fingertips brush Kellin's pink lips.

"But I'm your lover. Doesn't that make me more important than him? Why don't we go to the bedroom and relax a bit?" Vic turns, Oli slams his back against the wall so that he isn't seen. He's breathing hard - he can hear Vic's footsteps on the wooden floor get closer. He takes one look down the hall and makes the quick decision to go back to the guest bathroom. He makes his way there just in time, Vic shows up in the hall and walks into the bedroom.

He's not sure what feeling overtakes him once he hears Kellin's footsteps towards the room.

"Not tonight Vic, I told you I don't want to."

The door closes - Oli hurries down the hallway (careful to not make a noise) and stands just outside of it.

"You'll love it, like you always do. Come on, I'll make you forget all about Sykes."

Oli doesn't have to listen hard, they're not making any effort to be silent. 

"It doesn't have to be like this…" Kellin is saying. Oli can hear sheets rustle. He swallows thickly.

"Look, I've been very patient with you-"

"Oli is my friend and you PROMISED!"

"The only thing I really fucking agreed to, Kellin, is to not kill the bastard if I got the money. Now that I have the money, I have no intentions of dragging his ass out of where it belongs. He'd just get in the way of us and you know that! He's no good, Kellin."

"But you said you'd get him out of there!"

"I lied, babe. Had my fingers crossed the whole time. Let it go so that we can have a good time, alright? I know what things you like best…"

"Get off me, Vic, I'm not your sex toy."

Vic grunts - Oli can hear a struggle. 

"Oh, you're so much more to me than a sex toy, I fucking love you," Vic hisses. There's the sound of someone hitting the other…

"Stop!"

"Oh, I like it rough. Want me to get the rope?"

The last bit of restraint Oli has left in him disappears. He slams open the door to find Vic on top of Kellin, pinning him down by his wrists. He grabs a handful of Vic's shirt, yanking him off and within range of his fist. His first hit he aims at Vic's jaw, and he hears a satisfying groan from Vic as it makes contact. Vic sinks down to his knees, howling in pain.

Oli is about to pull him back up so that he can land another blow, but Vic pushes him down at the legs, and Oli lands on the floor with a thud, the wind knocked out of him.

"Fuck! Didn't expect to see you so soon, Sykes!" Vic yells, standing up quickly. Oli rises to his feet soon after.

"Oli!" Kellin exclaims, now standing across the room in the doorway.

"What the bloody hell is going on here? Why did you leave me?" Oli shouts at Vic.

Vic backs up and reaches behind himself, pulling something off the bedside table. He grips a Glock 19 in his hands and points it at Oli.

"The plan was never to get you back out, motherfucker."

"That's not what I was told, Oli. I never wanted that, I was only trying to save you!" Kellin exclaims, walking towards Oli, when Vic shouts.

"Stop! Get away from him, Kellin, or I'll shoot him before you have a chance to plead."

Kellin stops in his tracks.

"I don't understand-"

Vic laughs hysterically. "I'm the big, bad wolf. I'm the one that demanded the money. I'm the one that suggested the murder plot to Quinn. I'm the one with the master plan. Of course Kellin owed me the money but there was never any kid that overdosed. If anything, I'm surprised he never overdosed himself - always has been a clumsy boy. 

He owed me the money for several reasons, one of which being that I sold him drugs and he never paid. I started really pressing the money issue once I thought of this little scheme and how easy it would be to get you out of the equation. You always held us back, Kellin and I," he says, motioning with the pistol that Oli should move.

He walks where Vic tells him to, down the hall and into the kitchen. Kellin follows.

"Get over here, I don't want his blood on you," Vic snaps. Kellin doesn't move. "NOW, or I'll shoot."

Kellin rushes over then, tears in his eyes. He's so thin, it hurts Oli to see him like this.

"I thought Kellin was the one who's life was in danger-" Oli starts.

"I never threatened to kill Kellin, I threatened to kill you. I thought that putting your ass in prison would be enough to make him come crawling to me, but I can see now I was wrong. You needed to be dead from day one."

Oli doesn't know what to do. He glances across the room for something he could use to defend himself, but comes up short, save for the knives across the room. Realistically, though, he knows by the time he could reach them Vic would've already put a bullet in his skull.

"Vic, please, I'll do anything you want. Have sex whenever you want-" Kellin pleads.

"Oh, you'll be doing that anyways, babe. As long as he's around I've got a problem that just won't fix itself. Any last words, Sykes? Anything you want to confess?" Vic asks, cocking the gun.

This isn't the way Oli thought he'd go.

"Just that-"

A bullet cracks through the air, but it's not Vic's. Vic has to duck to dodge it, the bullet instead blasting through the window behind him. He looks behind himself, and another shot is fired, this one knocking the gun cleanly out of his grip, where it lands across the floor. 

Kellin screams, rushing over to a corner of the room.

Oli turns around to see Josh and Tyler walking down the hallway, both with pistols in their hands. 

Vic rushes towards Kellin, grabbing his hand and starting to run out of the room. Oli grabs Vic's arm as he passes by, yanks him back and gives him a hard blow to the cheek. There's a messy exchange of fists, each one draining Oli even more of the strength he doesn't posses but somehow his adrenaline propels him forward.

"You keep - your - filthy-" Oli's screaming, when there's another gunshot fired, this time not directed at either of them, but at Josh and Tyler.

"Don't think I invited you in, bitches! " Mike exclaims sounding like a madman as he fires another shot.

Oli's not sure what happens first. There's screaming, but all he is overcome with is rage. Now his other friend is under attack.

Fists and bones collide, insults are shouted, and finally he gets the upper hand in the fight, pressing Vic up against a wall, hand around his throat. 

"Wait, maybe we can work this out? I'll let you stay outside in the dog house," Vic suggests, a sick grin on his face as he tries to pull himself away.

"You son of a bitch-" Oli starts, but is cut off by screaming behind him.

"Hands off my brother, you bastard!" are the last words he hears before a sharp pain, a loud noise, and he falls, hitting his head somewhere hard.

***

It smells like Lysol and plastic wrap. Oli wrinkles his noise and blinks his eyes several times in attempt to get them used to the bright lights overhead. He tries to readjust himself on the bed but - fuck - it hurts.

"Ah," he winces, opening his eyes for good this time.

"You're awake!" Kellin exclaims, rushing to his side. Where had he come from? He hadn't been there before, had he? Where was he? "Josh and Tyler just left-"

"What's wrong?" he asks, attempting to look down at his own left shoulder. He's in a hospital, that much he's pieced together. "Bloody hell, did I get fuckin' shot?"

"In the arm," Kellin replies. "The doctor did a really good job getting the bullet out. Said if it had been anywhere else you could've lost your arm. Well, most of it, at least."

"Damn, lost an arm? That would suck," he grunts, making another pained face. "Fuck, this hurts."

Kellin sits down at his bedside.

"At least it's your left arm?"

"Shit, you're right, wouldn't want to lose the ability to jack off, I can't wait for that."

"Shut up! I just meant-" Kellin laughs, Oli does too.

It's the happiest he's felt in a long time.

"What happened to everyone else? Josh? Vic?" Oli asks, the words tumbling over each other.

"Calm down, everyone is fine, other than you. The cops got there shortly after the first shots, and then they took everyone away for questioning."

"Oh, God, Josh! They're gonna put him back in prison, I have to see him!" he exclaims, attempting to get up, but Kellin pushes his chest back to the bed. 

"You're not going anywhere," he emphasizes. "Doctor's orders."

"Hmph."

"Everything will work out, okay? You just need to quit being an idiot and lay down."

"Make me," Oli retorts, smirking over at him. Kellin rolls his eyes.

"Oli, I just… I just want to say that I'm sorry for everything that happened," Kellin says, the conversation suddenly taking a darker turn. "I only was trying to protect you and-"

"It's okay. I can't say I would've done the same, but I understand."

It's quiet for a while, not an uncomfortable silence, but one that they felt at ease with. There's a brief exchange of glances, a shy smile from Oli, then somehow their lips are pressed together, Kellin's hands on the side of his face. Oli reaches up, touches Kellin's hand to make sure it's real.

"I've waited so long," Kellin moans into the kiss; Oli kisses him harder. He wants Kellin on top of him, underneath these damn sheets that are so uncomfortable. It's as if Kellin reads his mind, because he crawls on top of him, carfeul of his arm, and kisses him deeper. He's never felt a passion so strong, a love that was so intoxicating he could drown in the high it gives him. It's only now after all these years that he realizes that Kellin was always more than just a 'best friend' to him.

He was in love with him.

And Oli is just about to tell him that, but Kellin slides a hand into his hair and slightly tugs, oh so slightly, and it sends his mind into overdrive. He isn't thinking anymore, let alone capable of stringing words together in a manner that made sense.

The rush he has now makes him forget all about his arm, so he tries to use it to grab a hold of Kellin's waist-

"FUCK!" he yelps, causing Kellin to instantly stop and look up in concern.

"Are you-"

"Fine, just forgot about the arm thing," he says quickly, hoping Kellin would let it go. But, as expected, he sits there, giving him that concerned look that he does so well. "It's fine, I promise."

"Alright," he replies, leaning down and pressing soft kisses to Oli's lips. They're inviting, drawing Oli in closer. He's careful to only use his good arm to pull Kellin closer down, bringing the heat of his body near his own. Feeling him through the sheets - he wants them off. He wants to feel all of Kellin, no barriers at all. He will do anything for him, everything for him, all for him.

"I'll do whatever you want," Oli whispers in the heat of the moment. He's about to tell him to take off the sheets, common sense be dammed, when they're interrupted.

"Ah! You're awake, Mr. Sykes. I see you have already resumed normal activities?" a tall doctor says, smirking with a clipboard in hand. "Shall I come back later?"

Kellin nearly falls over as he stumbles back off of Oli, back off the hospital bed. He runs a hand through his hair in attempt to look somewhat civilized. He's flustered as fuck, and for anyone that looked (as Oli most certainly did) he's also excited.

"No Sir," Oli stutters looking at the doctor then glancing over at Kellin, who gives him an embarrassed smile. "I can talk."

It's all going to be alright, as long as Kellin is by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
☽ [Tumblr](https://misssnightmare.tumblr.com) │ [Twitter](https://twitter.com/MisssNightmare) │ [Dreamwidth](https://missnightmare.dreamwidth.org/) ☾


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